


Technophobia

by Kaeiia



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse Mentions, Cult references, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other, Pacifist Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Slow Burn, fuck your third chapter kisses we're strapping in for the long haul, just because this is a markus fic doesn't mean we disrespect north in this home, no beta reader we fic like men, platonic connor/reader because just because we ain't porkin him doesn't mean we can't be his friend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2019-07-10 10:21:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15947375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaeiia/pseuds/Kaeiia
Summary: Technophobia (from Greek τέχνη technē, "art, skill, craft" and φόβος phobos, "fear") is the fear or dislike of advanced technology or complex devices, especially computers.-----------------------------------------------------You grew up in a secluded town in what friends would later describe as an anti-technology cult. When you make it out and go out on your own, you end up in Detroit, a city that was recovering from an android revolution. You barely knew about androids, nonetheless deviancy or anything else related to it, and now you were faced with the shambles that remained of the city as employment rates shifted, androids moved freely, and arguments about deviancy were as common as bickering about racism between children and their older relatives.Your first experience with an android goes horrifically wrong, and the next one you meet is no better. Rapidly, you find your life getting stranger and stranger as people around you get sicker and sicker, and somehow, so do the androids.Never before did you think an android with mismatching eyes would be your only hope to survive.





	1. Paperbacks and Vaccines

# A New Beginning

This new world was deliciously loud, smelled strange, and if you had not chosen this path for yourself, would have been painfully overwhelming. You stood just outside the welfare office, arms wrapped around yourself in the ill-fitting jacket that a faceless social worker had so gently offered to you, her movements as careful as though she were handing a newborn to a fidgety toddler. 

Everyone was so eerily careful with you, like you were going to drop to the floor, shatter into a thousand irreparable pieces and leave a trail that would harm every barefoot wanderer who came by. Maybe if your background hadn't been so damn strange to them, things would be different. 

>   
>  _"Mom?"_
> 
> _She looked more and more tired these days. The light in her eyes had faded and the genuine smiles she always seemed to save for you and only you had even disappeared, masked by a constant look of worry. Nothing seemed to soothe her. Sometimes, she would look entirely detached from the compound, her hands resting on a paperback book and her eyes staring out the window. Her lips would silently mouth words she could never really make out, like a song passed down through generations that you hadn't earned the rights to learn yet._
> 
> _After a few heavy moments, she looked at you. It was a look that made you almost want to shrink backward and hide. That look was filled with so much hurt, so much regret, and so much conflict, you feared that you were the source of it. It only took her a few moments to readjust, her expression softening as she patted the chair next to her._
> 
> _"The girl from town came by last night."_
> 
> _It was almost accusatory. You frowned, reflexively wrapping your arms around yourself. "The girl," that your mother referred to was named Nina. She was a pretty girl, with big brown eyes, hair that rested in wild, dark curls, and skin the color of the various sard gemstones that your father tended to give you as gifts when he went to the market._
> 
> _"What did she say?"_
> 
> _You knew well that your family, as well as everyone else on the compound, had a strong distrust of outsiders, even if they were just the children and family of the vendors who sold the goods that you could not produce yourself._
> 
> _Your mother's look was hollow. She glanced at your hands as you began to fidget with your phone. The device was simple in modern terms, just a touchscreen phone that could call and text. The limited internet connection was run through a sort of parental block system. You only accessed what your superiors wanted you to see, and for far too long, you had been convinced there wasn't much to see._
> 
> _"I don't want you hanging around her anymore."_

Your mother's word was law. So why had you spited her? Why had you gone out that night and met up with Nina? She had taken you by the hand and showed you what the world looked like outside of your compound, and that had opened up a wanderlust that was stronger than your willingness to obey. 

There was so much to see, so much to learn. You never knew just how far it would take you. Your curiosity was seen as betrayal. A yearning to reach out and touch the rest of the world, to breathe in air that had not been the same air that you'd been surrounded by for your entire life, and find something new was seen as an entire new evil that would destroy you.

Your fear of being strapped down, of becoming a shell of a human being not unlike what your mother was morphing into had put a fire in your bones. You packed light and you ran. Nina was right there waiting with an open door and a place to sleep for you when you came. She was the one who taught you how to use more advanced technology, who introduced you to the idea of androids, and explained just what the revolution had meant for society overall. 

A train ticket and a renewed sense of determination had brought you to Detroit. Social workers, various shelters, and some cash from Nina had held you over the past few weeks. You were being put up in a tiny studio apartment by the state and were working for the welfare office as a receptionist to help justify that.

You found yourself feeling lucky. According to Nina and the articles you had found, unemployment had skyrocketed since the implementation of these androids. People were desperate for work but just couldn't match the unflinching, untiring, perfect work of a machine.

Now, after the revolution, the economy was shifting and people were starting to trickle back into the workforce. No androids worked in your office, the manager being a stubborn, android-phobic man who had a bit of a temper. 

You? Well, you would not know. You had never met an android. If you did, you wouldn't know, particularly with so many wandering around without their signature Cyberlife outfits and LEDs. 

A stronger gust of fall air kicked you back into reality. Reality was the key to a tiny apartment clutched in your hand and an upcoming appointment with a physician at the clinic. The past few weeks had been riddled with these appointments, mainly getting you up to date with the vaccinations that your mother had so vehemently declined during your childhood.

Today, you were set to receive a vaccine called, "The Purmt Vaccine." It was named after a group of researchers, led by a none other than Doctor Scott Purmt who had discovered something powerful: a defense against most forms of cancer. According to their studies, it prevented over ninety percent of cases of various cancers that were deliberately given to lab rats, and over eighty percent in humans. The testing had been controversial, but people were growing desperate.

The world had changed in a huge way. Androids had protested, demanding rights and equal treatment. A peaceful protest had lead to concentration camps that were almost immediately shut down and faced with...another protest.

In the end, they had earned their liberty, dignity, and freedom. Detroit had seen the largest uprising, and was now seen as the heart of the android movement. Now, people were settling. Many humans were afraid to live in Detroit, making rent cheap, jobs more readily available, and making it the first place you thought to run to upon escaping your family's suffocating hold.

You sat in a chair in a waiting room that was far too quiet, your hands resting on your knees as you stared at the various health PSA posters that were plastered on the walls. 

Your name was called by a woman with a gentle voice and pretty green eyes. On her temple was a swirling blue LED. Your eyes widened as you considered her. 

She was an android. 

"Are you alright?" 

After a few seconds, you blinked and nodded before following her into an examination room. The nurse, whose name you learned to be Anna, sat you down and started to explain exactly what the Purmt vaccine was, and the benefits. You were ready to get the shot, like many before in the past few weeks, and just get it over with. 

"If you would just show me your arm?" 

You were hardly interested in looking as she went to stick the needle in your arm, but when there was a strange silence and a lack of needle, you glanced over.

"Is something wrong, or...?"

You stopped. 

Anna stood stark still, her pretty eyes no longer showing color. Suddenly, her synthetic skin peeled back, showing you just white and grey instead of any clothes, hair, or anything else that made her look remotely human. Her LED glared a blood red. A growling, grinding sound started to come from her, her mouth opening in such a way that you were sure her artificial lips would snarl at you if you could still see them.

You nearly fell out of your chair in your quick reflex to make an escape. A pair of unnaturally strong hands grabbed you, and suddenly you were face to face with the snarling android. A scream filled the room, and you realized that it was yours. Her grip grew stronger and if she had nails they would have torn your skin already. The screaming continued, and you were so disassociated from your own voice you had barely registered your own screeches for help. 

Her growling intensified and she suddenly hurled you up against the wall, hard enough that your head knocked back and you briefly lost consciousness.

In that short moment, help had arrived in the form of a human receptionist and an android doctor. The doctor was the only one strong enough to grab Anna, who now was screeching at a level that would haunt your nightmares months later and writhing like a rabid animal. 

The two fought, one with a red LED and the doctor sporting a yellow one as he restrained Anna. You scrambled to your feet, pain shooting through your back, neck, and head as the receptionist pulled you into her office, locking the door behind her. Behind closed doors, you heard the rhythmic, muffled sound of something hitting a wall over, and over, and over until you heard a screeching and what could only be described as an explosion. 

Sick with fear and locked in a receptionist's office at a medical facility was not how you expected to spend your evening. What made it worse was the questioning that was to follow. Cops had flooded the scene and locked it down, which meant your plan of some arranging your new apartment and collapsing in bed was going to be postponed. Paramedics had arrived, and the irony was not lost on you as they checked your vitals and examined your back. Some bruising would annoy you for a few days or so, but nothing catastrophic had occurred.

At least, nothing bad had happened to you. You glanced in the direction of the door, wondering just what happened to that android. This is what your parents had been trying to protect you from, wasn't it? Regret flooded your system. You tucked your legs towards your chest and closed your eyes.

A gruff voice cut through the scattered murmurs.

"Have you guys gotten a statement from the witnesses?"

"Yeah, the paramedics just finished up with the patient she was workin' on." 

You looked up to see a disheveled grey haired man sporting an ugly hipster shirt under his DPD jacket, who was joined by a brunet male with soft brown eyes and...an LED.

Immediately, you shifted back, pressing yourself to the wall. Your eyes grew wide, and the older looking man with the ugly shirt glanced over to the android.

"Hey, Connor. Do me a favor and go put some evidence in your mouth or something."

"Lieutenant, I thought you hated when I did that." His mouth quirked in what you almost could believe was a teasing smile. 

"Quit busting my balls, robocop, move it." 

Hank shoved Connor, but you could hear the affection in his voice. The both of you knew he was trying to spare the android's programmed feelings. At least, from what you understood, programmed feelings. Deviancy was a strange concept to you.

The clearly seasoned lieutenant looked at you like he was thinking about somebody else. Hell, even the way he approached was borderline parental as he grabbed a chair, refusing to sit in it like a normal human being and swinging it around so he sat on it backwards. 

He kind of looked like an idiot. The idea made the corners of your mouth curve into a small grin. 

"Alright, kid. I know you've had a shitty day. First it's being in this fuckin' place, and now it's being interviewed by a crusty old man with an android behind him sticking evidence in his mouth. Not exactly an ideal way to spend a fall evening but you're gonna have to work with me. Take it from the top, like you haven't had to tell about eight other people what happened already. Don't sugarcoat it."

You let out a frustrated noise, sunk down in your chair, and questioned if it was too late to go back to living off the grid.


	2. To Run from Yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life is strange. You keep running into Hank and his damn android. 
> 
> Speaking of androids, what's with this virus?

You were so relieved to find that Lieutenant Anderson and his android partner were very quick, to the point, and matter-of-fact about the situation. The interview process had been as brief and detail oriented as it could be, and before you knew it, you were turning the key that led into your tiny studio apartment. It was clean, but it was located in a terrible part of the city. What did you expect? What counted as a good part of the city these days?

Either way, it was a livable space and you were _tired._ With a sigh, you dragged yourself in, shut the door behind you, checked the three locks, and then made the minimal effort to get ready for bed. You found the bed to be comfortable enough to pass out and didn't give anything except your aching body a second thought. 

Settling into your new life was relatively smooth. Your job was quiet and a little boring, but otherwise pretty comfortable. Sure, it didn't pay a ton, but it paid the bills and left you with a cushion. Within a year's time or so, you were sure you would be able to afford a slightly nicer apartment.

For now, you were just happy to buy your own groceries and send Nina about twelve Snapchats a day documenting the experience of figuring out what fruits were fresh by squeezing them. It was an adventure for you, a freedom you weren't used to that was just every day life for everyone else.

Though, your experience with the android had not been without its marks. You encountered androids frequently in your life. Every single one of them brought back that primal fear that would wrap around your throat, even if they just glanced at you. You would never be outwardly rude to an android or attack one, but you sure as hell would refuse to be within touching distance of one. 

Her smooth hands with the grip of a machine without mercy, cold, steely eyes, the horrible growling, screeching noise---

It haunted you every time a car squealed its tires outside your apartment building. So sue you if you weren't willing to take up any sort of interest in the well being of an android, nonetheless want to be near them and assist them.

This cool morning, though, it was slipped into your life in a strange way. You were nursing a mug, tired eyes more interested in the swirls in your drink than the images dancing across the television screen. If it had not been for the next few words being spoken during a news report, you may have dozed off once more.

"Amidst the breakout of what seems to be an infection of some sort among androids, particularly deviants, we have reached out to the closest the androids have to a leader: Markus. Markus led a peaceful revolution, demanding rights and equal treatment for androids and succeeding to gain respect within human political powers. Markus, thank you for joining us. Would you please tell us what you know about the recent strange, almost feral behavior from these androids? Is it a symptom of deviancy?"

The camera panned to a beautiful man with heterochromatic eyes and a haunted stare. Though he offered a small smile, something in you knew it was out of necessity rather than genuine pleasure to be there. You clutched your mug a little harder, your breath catching in your throat. Did he know something related to what happened to you?

Were you not alone in this entire situation? 

It didn't matter, because you quickly realized he was an android, and therefor just as guilty in this whole thing. Still, you watched on, more curious about the matter than bothered by his android identity. 

"This outbreak of strange behavior among several androids is just as alarming and confusing to us as it is to you." He was well spoken, his voice clear and gentle. If he were human, you may have been endeared to him.

"I can assure that this is not a normal response to deviancy, and we will be working closely with the DPD to make sure that no further humans are harmed and no more androids can be affected by this virus." 

The reporter hesitated, then smiled.

"Thank you, Markus. Back to you---"

You changed the channel with a grunt, then proceeded to move on with your day. Life didn't stop because you were traumatized, after all. Work _really_ didn't care, either. If you wanted to get a paycheck, you'd show up, smile, and wonder if minimum wage was worth working with Laura for eight hours straight. What an insufferable human being. 

Imagine your surprise when you saw Laura being taken out on a stretcher. _Well_ , you didn't **see** her persay, but you'd know those six inch heels that she-devil wore every day, especially when they were being carried by a paramedic. You blinked a few times, watching in an acute, morbid curiousity. 

Nobody would talk about what happened to Laura, but you didn't see her for the rest of the week. Or the next, actually.

It had been almost a month when you saw a pair of familiar faces at the supermarket. There, bickering about the freshness of a grapefuit, were Lieutenant Anderson and his android. Connor's LED was spinning, a calm blue despite the almost human-like irritation in his voice. 

"Hank, I _assure_ you this is a perfectly ripe fruit. I can scan it---"

"Fuck off, I'm a grown man, don't tell me how to squeeze a damn melon---"

You resisted the urge to laugh, resulting in an ugly snort as you ducked into the cereal aisle, pretending to be much more interested in the Fruit-o-hoops than you actually were. 

A familiar voice nearly scared you out of your skin. Connor stood about a foot away, smiling pleasantly. If it weren't for that LED, he would have passed for human, dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a hoodie that clearly belonged to Hank.

Connor repeated your name, clearly confused about your lack of response to him.

Your heart was firmly lodged in your throat, your back pressed hard against the shelves and your hands frantically seeking a weapon that wasn't made of cardboard and containing way too much sugar. Instead, all you found was Hank appearing beside what you percieved as a threat.

"Goddamnit, Connor, what did I say about harassing people in the market about the sugar content in their food---" Hank grabbed Connor by the shoulder, his touch firm and familiar. Connor tilted his head.

"I was merely greeting (Y/N). Are you alright?" His attention turned back to you. 

Hank, ever observant, quickly assessed the situation. 

"Hey kid, you alright? Don't worry about this plastic idiot, he wouldn't hurt a fly. Fuck, he hesitated when he saw that spider last week." The grizzled old man cocked a grin at you. 

Your heart just wouldn't stop beating, stop desperately clawing at your chest like it was an alien trying to escape. You swore the universe itself had wrapped around your throat and was squeezing. 

Hank glanced at Connor, then back to you. 

"Hey, (Y/N). I know you've seen some shit, but I promise, he wouldn't hurt you, especially with me around, huh?" 

His tone was almost fatherly, something you hadn't heard in a long time. Connor looked on, but his body language had shifted. He seemed anxious, now fussing with a coin and drooping his shoulders, like he was trying to appear smaller. It was almost kind of sad. Had you hurt his feelings?

"Sorry, I've----yeah. It's been an adjustment period." 

Hank gave a knowing nod. 

"Took me a good few weeks of having this one around to adjust. Now he just drives me batshit with warnings about my cholesterol levels and bitching about my diet choices." 

In a way that was clearly strange and uncomfortable for Hank, Connor remained silent. Hank glanced over his shoulder at the android, then heaved a sigh. 

"You fucked up a perfectly good android. Look at it. He's got anxiety."

Despite your best efforts, you snorted. 

"That's not funny." 

"Nah, it's _hysterical._." 

Despite Hank's best efforts, you still left the interaction shaken and happy to be out of range of the boyish android. He was too human for you to handle right now, in a strange way. 

You had so many questions that were probably never going to get answers. You were used to that, unfortunately.

>   
> "Why can't I play with the other kids? They have a playground in town! I wanna go!"
> 
> You were six, wide eyed and innocent to what was happening around you. Patiently, your mother scooped you up and gave you a kiss on your cheek.
> 
> "Why don't you play with the other little ones here? I can talk to your father about building a swingset in the yard. How about that?" 

You had been satisfied at the time, not old enough to continue pestering her with _but why?_ at that very moment. Being isolated and controlled was not something on the forefront of your mind. Such concepts just didn't exist in your world.

Now? 

Well, now you had to question every single person that came into your life. 

\---------------

"So, was he hot?! Tell me!" 

"Wh--- _who_?" 

Nina's pretty face scrunched up in irritation at your clear ignorance.

"The android! Was he a standard model? Did you get his model number? Tell me! The androids here are all pretty much the same, I bet Detroit is _loaded_..."

You squinted at your screen, disbelief written across your expression. 

"Are you trying to get the details about the fucking _investigation android?_." Nina was always more accepting of androids, having been introduced to the concept of them early by her very open-minded parents. She, also, apparently was a bit of a **fan** of them. 

You laughed.

"His name is Connor. I've never seen another one like him, but I didn't look too hard at him. He fidgets a lot." 

You shrugged, uncomfortable with dwelling on the thought of androids too long. Those thoughts too often brought you back to the shrieking nurse and her animalistic behavior. 

Nina's dark eyes softened, looking almost like amber when she shifted so her lamp lit up more of her face. 

"Hey, you good? Should I come and get you?"

You shook your head. The Detroit Revival Program had been the reason you had come here. The economy was shifting, with less androids in the work force and room for more humans, but the general populations' reluctance to come back to Detroit had left a huge gap and a need for employees. 

They were finding people with nothing to lose and so much to gain, giving them homes, and giving them jobs. It was wonderful, a chance for recovery for many people, and for you it had been a second chance. It meant you weren't stuck in Nina's spare bedroom feeling useless. 

She truly was a wonderful friend, and you didn't know where you would be without her. Your goodbyes lasted another ten minutes before you flopped onto your uneven bed into a fitful sleep. It was better than nothing, you supposed. 

Morning was your enemy, demanding your attention as you smashed the snooze button on your phone's alarm. You made a thousand noises of protest to an empty apartment as you shuffled around, vaguely putting yourself together enough to accept leaving your home for some overpriced coffee from the cafe down the street.

It was your day off, but you needed caffeine and had shit to do. That little cafe was a haven for tired young adults and exhausted middle-aged men who never made it performing poetry at open-mic. 

You walked with headphones on and your head down, uninterested in your surroundings as long as you didn't smack into any passerbys. You were on a mission, after all, and you _always_ completed your mission. 

Now equipped with enough caffeine to bulldoze a small child, you were more ready to handle your day. 

A growling noise made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. No, maybe it was just an angry cat in the alley. The tell-tale sound of footsteps accompanied the strange growling. You felt your breath catch in your throat. A low hissing sound sent you straight into motion. Your coffee hit the sidewalk, abandoned as you **ran.**

You had no coherent thoughts. All you heard was your own heart, the thud of footfalls---was there **two** of them?! 

It didn't matter. If you wanted to live, you would _run_ and never look back. Looking back meant accepting what was behind you, and you _refused_ to let it have you.

## DANGER: AUTOMATED HIGHWAY, DO NOT CROSS

You scaled the fence and **ran**. Cars sped through without a thought about your wellbeing. Two almost clipped you in the hip, missing you by a hair. You were almost to the barrier when something grabbed your shirt. You whirled around, a wild cry you barely recognized as your own cutting above the blaring horns of passing cars. You faced a skinless, screeching android. For a moment, you swore it said your _name..._

Frozen, you felt the world screech to a terrifying halt. Your body, directly in the path of a speeding car, struggling with a rapid android, and you would never even have your damn coffee---

A strong hand grabbed the android and flung it directly into the path of the oncoming car just before a solid body slammed into you, plummetting you against the median and saving you from the destruction. 

You found yourself crumpled against a warm chest, shaken beyond belief and taking in desperate, labored breaths. Your gaze shifted up as you felt yourself being lifted and tucked against your faceless savior. 

In just a few moments, you were on the other side of the highway, being gently set down. You took the brief second to finally get a better look at him. 

One green eye and one blue eye, and an **android.** No, the android from the _news._

He offered a gentle smile and reached to examine your face.

"My name is Markus."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2!!!
> 
> Thank you guys so much for your support! As always, reach me on @deviatedaffection on tumblr if you have questions, comments, or suggestions! 
> 
> At least we finally got to meet Markus this time! Yay!


	3. Not a Barista but He'll Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You meet Markus! Connor is adorable and annoying! Gavin Reed and the reader argue about hating androids! Yaaay.

You shuffled backwards, your body sore and racing with adrenaline. Fear shot through you, boiling your blood in one second and sending it ice cold the next as Markus reached to touch you. Your eyes must have gotten so big they threatened to take over your face, because he seemed to think better of it and held his hand up in an almost defensive manner instead.

Markus was peering at you in a way that you would later learn was him analyzing your health and checking for injuries. Touching you was not actually necessary. You weren't aware of how advanced of a prototype he was, or really any other details about him other than the brief interview you had watched of him on TV.

What made him any different than the howling, hissing monster that had attacked you? You curled into yourself, digging your heels hard against the dirt in an attempt to get as far from the android as you physically could. Markus moved backwards, just enough to give you some space without letting you entirely escape. He didn't trust that you wouldn't dart into traffic. Even you could read that in his expression.

He was so human-like. It squicked you out a little bit, but that feeling was enough to spark a question from your lips. Your voice was far too shaky, and you hated how the syllables came out sounding broken and forced. Fear was still gripping and gnawing at your throat.

"A-are you...?"

You knew the answer to your question, but you wanted to see if he would be honest about it. Markus looked confused for about half a second, then he raised his palm to you. 

You watched in both horror and fascination as the artificial skin peeled back and revealed just a robotic hand. A shiver ran down your spine, and you tucked your legs closer to your chest. The life had drained from your face, it seemed, and only fear rested there now. 

"I'm not going to hurt you. I just wanted to make sure you are alright. I won't even touch you if you don't want me to." His voice was steady and calm, his expression intense and his body language controlled. Markus was every bit equal parts human and machine, and it unsettled you. 

Unlike Connor, who displayed an almost boyish setup, Markus was much more a leader than you were willing to admit. Something in how he carried himself made you want to _listen_ , if not for a moment. 

Whether it be his voice or your fear rooting you to the spot, you remained still, left with the heavy beat of your own heart in your chest. You sucked in a harsh breath, digging your nails into the dirt. 

"I saw the android before it attacked you. I was trying to figure out the issue with the virus---and then it just **snapped.** "

He looked conflicted, as if he weren't sure if he should even **tell** you any of this. With a small sigh that was not necessary, clearly a learned habit, Markus lowered himself down to sit on the ground across from you. His legs crossed, and he rested his elbows against his knees.

"I'm just glad I got to you before..."

A slight nod to the rushing cars over the barrier reminded you of just how close you were to **death.**

It didn't make you any more comfortable with the fact that he was an android. Your gaze hardened on him. 

"How do I know you're not next? That you won't try to fucking rip my throat out like some cackling freak!"

Markus' expression shifted to something you couldn't quite read. Still, he did not budge.

"You don't."

His statement was so honest that it chilled you to your core. He had nothing to gain from lying to you, did he? He was the leader of the **androids**.

This man could tear you limb from limb and far too many would rise behind him. Even humans looked up to him, based on how it was him that the news had turned to at the beginning of what seemed to be a wider and wider spreading virus among the androids. None of this made you trust him any more than you had the first time you met him.

You frowned. 

Markus offered his hand.

"It's threatening to rain. You need to get back home, and I have to, as well."

You shot him an apprehensive look, and Markus just responded by a slight tilt of his head.

"I won't follow you home if you don't follow _me_ home." He grinned, a slight expression that left you wondering what a genuine smile, one untainted by tension looked like. Could androids smile genuinely? 

There was so much you didn't know, but you still let him help you to your feet. His hands were surprisingly soft.

Markus was quiet as he walked you back to the street, never walking too far ahead or anywhere behind you, clearly aware of your discomfort in his presence. It wasn't until you reached the cafe where you had started your chaotic day did he speak.

"Your coffee."

"My---what?"

"Your coffee. An android is why you dropped it. Let one be the one to get you a new one?" 

You knew **damn** well he was just trying to soften the blow of what was facing you. 

"Why is it whenever shit goes wrong, it's one of you idiots?"

Hank's voice rang clear as he crossed the road. The sight of several police cars, your long abandoned coffee, and a few distraught looking witnesses greeted you. You let out an aggravated sigh. All you wanted was a peaceful day off. Connor was quick to follow, his gaze sticking to you in a way that reminded you just how different he was from other androids you had seen. Even between Markus and Connor, now that the two stood beside each other, there were mass differences. 

The two of them shared a silent greeting, then did something that unsettled the hell out of you. They each grabbed each other by the arm, only for the synthetic skin to peel back for a few seconds. Connor's eyes twitched a little, but Markus seemed almost stoic. Connor glanced over at you again.

"You ran into the automated road?" 

You could hear concern. With a sigh, you dropped down and sat on the curb, resting your head in your hands.

"How---"

"They did some weird android memory transfer shit. It's like a game of telephone, only less fun because the details aren't lost." Hank offered. Markus made a small noise of amusement, then you heard him crouch down in front of you. You looked up for a few seconds, finding his mismatched eyes peering right into yours.

"You could have died."

Connor did not sound **angry,** or even sad or disappointed. It almost sounded like he was just stating a fact, but when you looked up, you saw the slightest hint of hesitation on his face. You watched as he looked to Hank, almost like he was seeking reassurance or validation. Hank glanced over, then lightly clapped Connor on the shoulder.

"Ain't got all day for formalities." 

This seemed to make more sense to Connor than it did to you. You frowned even deeper. Before you knew it, you were at the DPD, being pressed by a detective with more of a sneer than a smile about the details of what had happened. He wasn't exactly the friendliest or the easiest to talk to, but at least he wasn't an android.

Speaking of androids, he seemed to have an _issue_ with them. You crossed your arms as you watched the unkempt man pace.

"The malfunctioning pieces of plastic seem pretty drawn to you." 

He came closer, and you read his badge. 

_Detective Reed._

You blinked a few times.

"You think I **like** being attacked by a bunch of robot freaks?!" 

"No, but I feel like there's a _reason_." He shot back. You raised an eyebrow, then let out a laugh.

"I didn't know androids _existed_ until about a year ago. Fuck off."

Cue twenty more minutes of the two of you arguing about which of you disliked androids _more_ before Lieutenant Anderson intervened and decided that they weren't going to get anything out of you that they haven't already heard before. To your surprise, though, when you exited, you saw Markus standing there holding a coffee.

He was smiling.

You gave him an apprehensive look, then glanced over to one of the human officers, who just smiled and nodded. With a wary sigh, you reached and took the paper cup from him, careful to grip via the cardboard sleeve before taking a sip.

To your offense, you found it was exactly how you liked it.

Damn androids.

It didn't make you _trust_ him per say, but you decided that he was highly unlikely to be able to hurt you in a police station surrounded by...well... _police._

He continued to look at you like he could see every flaw, memory, and scar that resided deep within you. You _hated_ it and immediately drew back before pointedly shoving past him. You were tired, and it was only one pm. 

You flopped down on your couch and questioned if it was within your rights to cut yourself off from the world and become a hermit. After a few minutes of contemplation, you decided that you liked breakfast for dinner too much to give that up. 

That, and living most of your childhood and all of your teen years in that compound was enough isolation for three lifetimes. Your eyes rolled up to stare at the ceiling as you considered the conditions. Monitored and controlled intranet instead of a proper internet connection, homeschooling and even a lack of proper medical facilities...

If it weren't so modernized, you would swear it was a cult. You shook the idea off. The people you lived with were simple, albeit stubborn families who just wanted what was best for their children. It wasn't like they were hurting anyone. 

The human mind had a wonderful mechanism that would defend itself from trauma.

You found yourself waking from a mid-afternoon nap-turned-nightmare, shut off the TV, and spent the rest of your day researching androids and what could possibly be turning them against people. You also called the clinic about re-scheduling that damn vaccine, firmly requesting a human nurse versus an android this time. 

You wondered what your parents would feel about you getting vaccines, particularly ones that were so advanced. Your mother in particular had been resistant to most medical treatment on you as a child. Antibiotics were almost strictly banned except for the one time you had strep throat so badly you could barely swallow water. 

What now? Were you tempting nature and fate by getting vaccines to prevent illnesses that killed millions just decades earlier? Did you have a choice in all of this? 

You shook the thought off and picked up your phone, squinting as an unknown notification popped up. 

**RK800 #313 248 317 - 51 has requested contact. If you believe you received this message in error, or receive inappropriate contact from this android, please contact Cyberlife immediately.**

**RK800-51:** I'm sorry to inconvenience you, but I need your assistance at the station. -Connor

You groaned, then started to tap out a reply. When was this android bullshit going to end?

**You:** I'm not fucking around with androids again today, or any day. Leave me alone, Connor. 

**RK800-51:** Your participation could save lives, Miss. If you could please assist us, I promise to stay out of your way and let Lieutenant Hank head the interrogation. -Connor

**You:** ...Interrogation? I'm too tired for this shit. 

**RK800-51:** Please. The Lieutenant would also like to give you your wallet back. You dropped it at the station. -Connor

Damnit. 

With a loud noise of protest, you dragged your bed-head self out of bed and trudged back to the DPD for the second time that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this new chapter! Sorry it took so long, I've been working and I go to school as well. 
> 
> Please leave any critique, questions or concerns you have here, or if you want to reach me directly I'm on tumblr (@deviatedaffection) and I'd love to hear from you guys! 
> 
> Here's to the Markus loving army, amiright?


	4. Homesickness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You meet up with Connor, question your sanity, and Markus is cute whether you like it or not.

By the time you got back to the station, the sky had opened up and it was _raining._ Already tired and frustrated, you were sure this was the end of your rope. The sight of Connor, with his stupid puppy eyes and that slight cock of his head while he held out an umbrella to you didn't help.

"What the fuck, Connor?! Go inside!"

"The rain might make you cold, and Lieutenant Anderson says that cold, wet people are generally unhappy people."

"Yeah, and you're getting soaked, stupid."

Despite your grumbling, you stepped under the umbrella that Connor held for you and started your way into the station. You were sure that Anderson had said something much more colorfully worded that possibly had a double meaning, but arguing that point with an android was hardly what you came here for. 

"Now where the fuck is my wallet---"

You let out a loud groan as you saw Hank holding the cheap piece of plastic that held your other pieces of plastic and maybe twenty dollars in cash. He wiggled it at you, and you immediately snatched it from him. All the while, Connor stood there with his stupid face, dripping water all over the stupid floor.

" **Connor!** "

You and Hank scolded the machine at the same time, in the same exact tone. It was eerie, but also sort of funny if you thought about it. Connor, on the other hand, looked startled, if androids could be startled. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but seemed conflicted, like he was unsure who to apologize _to_ before he shuffled away, seemingly to go and dry off. 

You turned back to Hank and scowled. 

"Okay, what was so important you gave the android my number?!"

Hank scowled right back.

"Connor is better at texting than me. Didja want your wallet or what?" 

"Yeah, I want to know what the fuck this _important_ interrogation is." 

You frowned, shoving your hands in your pockets.

Hank let out a defeated sigh, then led you to a room that was adjacent to an actual interrogation room. You watched through the screen as a detective spoke to an android that was chained to the table and chair. The android's LED kept spinning yellow and red, but not once did he speak. 

"I don't get it."

Within a few moments, you _did._ The android leaped up, pulling hard at his restraints and snarling like a rabid dog. Instinctively, you pulled back, flattening your back to the wall. What kind of sick point was Hank trying to make?! You felt your throat tighten and your heart start to pound in your chest. You were sure that thing was going to break the glass and come straight for your throat. 

Hank pressed a button on the console.

"Told you." 

With that, he grabbed you by the arm and led you out towards his desk. There sat Connor, dry this time, with that one piece of unruly hair still hanging over his dopey looking face. You frowned, but sat down, still visibly shaken. 

"What the fuck was that?!" 

Connor made a noise you did not recognize. Maybe it was an android's way of sighing. 

"I told you that traumatizing her was not how to get answers, Lieutenant."

Annoyed, you curled up in the swivel chair, wrapping your arms around yourself. You recalled a chair just like this in your father's office, and how you would just swivel and spin whenever he was scolding you. What was it about the DPD that made you feel the same way? You were free to leave, after all. 

Still, you stuck around out of sheer curiousity and spite. 

"I am not **traumatized** , thank you very much." 

Connor looked over at you, his eyes fluttering for a few seconds before he righted himself. As if it were the most obvious thing in the world, he responded.

"Yes, you are."

You would have punched him if he did not remind you how expensive he was. With an annoyed sound, you looked to Hank. 

The explanation you received was not very helpful. It seemed that these androids were going feral at random times, and they were unable to trace any sort of pattern save for one thing: you. You were the only one to have more than one experience with a feral, and Hank wanted to see if your presence would affect a captured suspect. 

Judging by the reaction, it had. What did it _mean_ though? 

You barely understood the existence of androids, nonetheless should have any effect on them! You didn't want anything to do with them! Still, you were asked by a tired and desperate Hank if you would assist in any further investigations. While your fear of androids was high, your compassion for your fellow man was higher.

You said yes. 

A few days later you were on your way to work and decided to stop by that coffee shop. While it now carried some strange feelings of unease, you refused to let that unease get between you and some caffeine. What you did not expect to see was Markus. He hardly looked out of place in his civilian clothes and lack of LED, but you would know those heterochromic eyes anywhere. You were going to question his presence when he turned, smiling in what seemed to be a nervous way.

The way he said your name would have been endearing if you didn't worry that this weird was **following** you. You frowned and peered at him with both curiosity and unease. Markus, with body language that was remarkably casual, offered a seat to you.

"What are you doing here? Are you stalking me?!" 

Markus frowned.

"No. I'm sorry if that's what this comes off as. I just wanted to check in on you. I know the past few days have not been easy on you. I wanted to apologize for what happened the other day. Have you been well?"

The way he spoke was fluid, soft and sweet, and you wondered just how many lies he could tell with that programmed voice. 

You refused to fall for it.

"I'm _fine_. I'm in the middle of a case of feral fucking androids that want to claw my eyes out even though I didn't fucking know they existed until a few weeks ago and now I've got a semi-normal one stalking me at my favorite coffee place!" 

His face would have made you laugh if you had the capacity to at this point. 

"You sound stressed. Maybe you should lay off of the espresso?"

You could have sworn he quirked a grin at you, but it was so quick you couldn't quite be sure. 

You shook him off, aggressively ordering a coffee just to spite him before, against your best interests, sitting down across from him. The scene looked so strange, with Markus as casual as could be and you trying to be spiteful about drinking a cup of coffee. 

"You did not know about androids before? How?"

Nope, absolutely not. You were not going to open up to a damned machine that would record you and report your life to others. You frowned and tucked your legs towards your chest, nearly tipping your chair in the process.

"None of your damn business."

Markus nodded, folding his hands in his lap.

"Fair enough."

His gaze shifted to the ceiling, and yours followed to find a bunch of tiles, each one painted by different patrons of the coffee place. For a few moments, it was quiet, and you almost forgot the circumstances that had you here.

"So, yeah, I'm fine. I'm...gonna go to work, and you'll go back to being an android, and neither of us will ever have to worry about this shit again, yeah?"

You forced a grin, and Markus just frowned.

"If that's what you want, I won't stop you. But...here is a number you can reach me at. If you need anything. You will always find a safe space with my people, Y/N. I promise." 

Something about the way he spoke shook you. You let out a soft, confused noise, then pocketed the card he had handed you. Within moments, he was gone, and you were left just as confused and lost as any other day. Your life was growing more and more complicated since the day you first considered leaving the compound. 

During your short commute, you thought about your mother. Was she alright? Had your departure hurt her as much as your frequent nightmares suggested? How about your father? Had he even noticed your absence, ever caught up in his meetings with the leaders of your little community?

Was this the right choice? Technology was only harming you. Androids were a nuisance, faux intelligent life forms that tried to earn your empathy. Even as a child you had hated any sort of doll. Imitations of real-life dug hard at your fear instinct. The four hour lectures about the evils of the outside world had driven the fear home. 

You wondered if they were just trying to protect you from this warped, loud world. 

By the end of your work day, you were preoccupied, almost _obsessed_ with the idea of checking in on your relatives. The only problem, of course lay in the fact that most communication was limited to a strict network on the compound. No simple google search would put you in contact, if they would even speak to you. 

It was frustration, stubbornness, and three glasses of wine that coaxed you into reaching out. If these damn androids were going to be such a nuisance to you, then you could be one right back. With that, you started to send a message to a particular android, something you thought you would never do voluntarily. It was going to be a long night.


	5. Phone Calls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A POV chapter from Connor and Markus' view. 
> 
> And an apology from me: I'M SO SORRY
> 
> WORK AND SCHOOL TOOK MY SOUL BUT I'M BACK HELLO FRIENDS

Markus wasn't expecting to hear from you again. You had been less than receptive to him, after all. He wasn't angry, per say, but he clearly was not going to assume you wanted to see his face again. After everything you had been through, he couldn't blame you. He didn't know your life. All he knew was that you did not have any sort of knowledge of androids until very recently. The whole thing didn't make any sense. Who could be that heavily sheltered? That in itself was startling. Could someone really be raised like that? How did you leave the house without seeing a single Cyberlife advertisement? Androids were part of society, after all. 

He had fought for that to be normalized. Markus had fought for these androids to be recognized as people. It had hardly been a bloodless or perfectly peaceful revolution, but he had narrowly avoided what Markus was sure would be destruction of both human and android-kind.

These days, he was still trying to cope with his own free will. Without his life being entirely dedicated to Carl, the revolution, or really anything else, he was lost. Markus was still looked to frequently, but the peak of the chaos had passed. Now, he found himself still trying to change the world in small ways. Even if it was just helping a stranger at a coffee shop or translating for someone at the mall with the vast array of languages programmed in him, it was at least something. All Markus wanted to do was help, to make the world better, to find kindness in a sea of hurt and blame. 

Did that make him foolish? Soft? Could an android be too emotional? Could a machine be considered soft? He was left shaking his head as he flipped through some paperwork. Being the leader of a revolution required a lot more paperwork these days, though he decided he preferred interviews and signatures over watching his followers die at the hand of spooked humans. Sometimes he wonder if Kamski had intended for this sort of situation all along.

Could that man predict the behavior of his machines? 

A noise distracted Markus. It was a small chime, indicating a message coming through. He looked up and the text splayed over his vision. The words were slightly misspelled, and you seemed far too comfortable with the way you were writing to him, but it was definitely you. Maybe it was you after some liquor, but still...

You wanted his help? 

If it was possible for him to malfunction and hallucinate, this would definitely be the situation he'd come up with as the content. Markus frowned deeply at the idea, hetero-chromatic eyes repeatedly scanning the messages over. You seemed...lonely. There was a plea that was written between the words that even he could see. Asking someone you could barely stand (and seemed to fear) was a level of desperation that meant you were serious. After all, you seemed ready to tear out his thirium pump just days before. What had changed?

Well, love did strange things to people

You wanted him to seek out a group of people that he had never heard of. You seemed unwilling to tell him why, but Markus decided that you would give him the truth eventually.

Right?

So the research began. Sure, Connor was better suited for this, but you had asked _him_ and Markus took that task very seriously. Sure, if it took him more than a few days, he would contact the police assistant android, but for now...

He came up with vague results that left him confused. The names that you provided him with did not give him direct leads to anywhere. It seemed like a first name would not match a last name, or a person's paper trail would disappear right after birth. Some of them didn't even have a birth certificate for him to find. Only one name seemed to get him anywhere.

Charles Teese. He was fourty-nine years old and an open protester when it came to rejecting androids, cyberlife, and most modern technology. With a criminal background, he was relatively easy to track, including the property rights to a huge clearing of land that was isolated from most large cities. It did not seem to have any sort of phone lines, but it appeared that there was plumbing and electricity.

A bird's eye view of the place showed him just what he was dealing with. It was a huge grouping of buildings, each one the same save for a few larger buildings, one of which looked sort of like a church. Markus blinked. You didn't seem like the religious type (though, it was rude to ask people those kind of things right off...)

He shook his head and continued digging. The people you had asked him to hunt down were going to be more of a struggle to contact than he originally thought. Even a deviant with his status couldn't just hack through secure lines. With a sigh, he contacted the only person he knew would be able to help him. 

***********************************************************************

Connor didn't know how to sit still comfortably, but Hank said his fidgeting made him nervous. Instead, he was mimicking a pose he saw the lieutenant often take: sprawled out with his gangly limbs hanging off of the couch with Sumo laying his fat head on the android's chest. At least Connor didn't have the capability to snore. 

Markus had contacted him at an odd hour with...a request. It was enough to make Connor frown and shift, which in turn made Sumo grunt in disapproval. Connor was gentle in prying the huge dog off of him, more focused on the words shifting across his vision. You...wanted their help? Specifically, you had messaged _Markus_? 

The android decided you must have been inebriated. He shook his head, then grabbed his work computer. A quick reveal of the artificial boning beneath his faux skin allowed him access to the device, which quickly opened various sensitive files. Police reports, noise complaints, taxes...

He read through them with the speed that would lag out any supercomputer, weeding through the lies, the redirects, and enough anti-android propaganda to make any deviant sick. It would be enough to make anyone's head spin, but he was on a mission. Beside, nothing rattled a police officer...right?

"What the fuck are you doing, Connor?"

A gruff, tired voice came from behind him. Connor did not turn to acknowledge Hank, and instead continued to rapidly flip through files and websites.

"I am looking for something."

There was a quiet between the two of them, and Hank let out a heavy sigh.

"It's three in the morning, but you don't sleep anyways, so fuck it. Knock yourself out. Just don't...I'dunno, fry a circuit or something." After a slam of the bathroom door, the sounds of a toilet and water running, and then the lazy footfalls of Hank going back to his room left Connor in silence again, he returned to work. This was a mission, and he never failed his mission.

While Markus may have gotten far, Connor got further. What he saw was quite unnerving, but it explained quite a bit about your skittishness with androids. A community that rejected technology, an isolated group of people in what was effectively the middle of nowhere, and a convict running the whole thing. Connor wasn't stupid. These people were dangerous.

What had you gone through? How had you escaped? If he was human, Connor was sure he would have flinched. His programming didn't allow it, but the sentiment was there. This man was dangerous in every sense of the way. He had been raised by a rich family that had a horrific habit of burying or hiding everything that didn't fit their mold with _money._ Charles' budding mental illness had been met with heavy drugs that altered his young brain rather than behavioral therapy and it showed. A deep hatred for the modern world had been embedded in him. Violence became his focus.

He had been imprisoned no less than four times for violent crimes including but not limited to robbery, aggravated assault, and rape. The latter of the charges had him imprisoned for roughly seven years, only to be released on parole after three. An unstable person like this should not be in the public. Connor rubbed absently at his temples, a habit he had seen Hank do time after time. While he did not have the aches and pains that humans did, he absolutely picked up their habits. He was unsure if that was the deviancy or just part of his human compatibility programming.

It didn't matter right now. 

While it was tough to get information on the group you had been raised by, he did his best. The point was to grab a phone number you could call, not muse about your upbringing. Still, it didn't mean the whole thing didn't concern Connor. Markus would have a _fit_ if he had this information. Connor adored his friend, but he decided it was for the best if he only gave him the bare minimum of information.

A phone number was passed through without a fuss as Connor watched the sun rise and Hank lumbered reluctantly out of his room. He only shifted as he felt a large, warm hand rest on his shoulder. He looked up and saw a tired but almost _affectionate_ look in the lieutenant's eyes.

It didn't last long. It never did.


	6. Holes in the Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We make some new friends and prove that we're not a poised heroine of any sort.

Maybe you shouldn't have asked Markus to do what he was doing. After all, who were you to trust an _android_ of all things? What if he turned the information over to the wrong people? What if he had a thousand questions and never let you live after that? Why did you care what he thought? You realized in a way, you didn't, but in a way you also did. There was a general discomfort, a feeling that the world was tightening and pulling you on a leash you never consented to wrapping around your neck. Why did androids have to exist? Didn't humanity have enough problems without flooding their lives with technology?

Look at that. You sounded like...him.

You shook the thought off, realizing that the water in your shower had gone cold. You were never known for long showers, so this was a new experience. If anything, you were often scolded by Nina when you were in and out of a bath in less than eight minutes.

"You're supposed to soak, idiot. That's the point of the bath bomb. Luxury. You should try it some time." 

She teased you, a gap toothed, good natured smile gracing her face. You could call back that smile in your mind's eye in a moment, maybe even more strongly than the rare sight of your own mother's smile. 

These days you would wonder if she was even your real mother, but you had her eyes and she was the only person who knew how to tame your hair as a child. What made a mother? What made family? Was it blood and matching accents, or was it the people who cared for you? You remembered Nina's parents. Her fathers were the warmest, kindest people you had ever met in your entire life. One braided Nina's hair when she was little, the other was better at helping with homework, but none of that mattered because each of them loved her with all of their hearts. Nina seemed better for it. 

You wanted to ask her what it was like to have parents like that. 

The thought coma was long enough that when you finally snapped out of it, you were dressed and your hair was dry enough that it would not drip (but definitely was not a blow-out job by any means.) Your reflection seemed to watch you in a strange way. You leaned and touched the mirror. Coming up with an identity that wasn't based on the beliefs and ideals of others was proving harder than you thought.

In a way, you realized you were still hanging onto those beliefs. By hating androids, by fearing them...you were everything your parents idealized. Isn't that why you left?

You let out a frustrated noise, ready to call it in and sleep all day when you heard the distinct sound of your phone vibrating on your bed side table. 

It was a message from Markus. He had come through with a phone number. Not only that, but he had not asked you a thousand prying questions. Was it really that simple? Did he want something in return? You realized just how skeptical you were, but...who wouldn't be? Hell.

You decided to pocket the number and save it for later. Today was already exhausting. You had no room for more grief. Would the number even work? Checking in on people you actively had to escape was a death wish, according to your best (and only) friend, but...

Your family would never hurt you. 

Your upper lip twitched. You decided to get on with your day. The world didn't stop every time you had an existential crisis, after all. Paper to be passed, minimum wage be damned, work to do, you had caffeine and enough apathy to carry you through. You were sure of it. Maybe one day you would save enough to go to community college with your fancy new identity.

That is if the country didn't collapse on itself, anyways. 

For a few weeks, everything was as normal as it could be. You settled into working life, bought shitty groceries, and spent too much money on enough locks for your doors to keep any intruder out. Well, at least that is what you theorized. Three deadbolts may have been a little excessive, but you justified it with the idea that you were prepared.

Prepared for what?

What was there to fear, other than your own failures?

You reached your apartment, tediously unlocking all the locks and setting your stuff down, only to let out a startled shriek as a voice came from behind you.

"God---damnit, Connor!"

The android stood in your doorway, his LED swirling a sky blue color for a moment before flickering yellow.

"I'm sorry, did I startle you?"

"What the hell do you want?"

He said your name firmly, a tone you did not find matched the usually awkward android.

"There has been more feral android activity in the area, and I wanted to ask you if you had experienced any more problems with them."

"You couldn't text me that? No, I haven't seen any..."

You heaved a sigh.

"Can you at least come in? You look awkward as hell." 

You ushered the android in (something you never thought you would do) and slammed the door shut behind him. Connor looked confused for a brief moment, but seemed to adjust. Absently, he started to fidget with a coin.

"I did not mean to make you uncomfortable," he mused, his voice as even as ever. "Lieutenant Anderson was going to be here, but he was...incapacitated." His eyebrow quirked.

"Is he okay?" Concern etched through your features. Connor...seemed to fighting a smile. Could androids do that?

"He is fine. The bottle of scotch he drained last night...not so much." The android shrugged. 

"I will not inconvenience you further, I just wanted to...his gaze shifted to a spot on the inner part of your arm. Just shy of where it bent, in the soft flesh of your inner arm was a small scar. Your mother told you that you had earned it as a small child when you had tried to befriend a feral cat, only for it to swipe you. 

The android was hyperfocusing on it, his expression blank for a few seconds.

"Connor?"

A few more seconds and the android looked to you again, eyes narrowing a little.

"Why do you have a tracking device in your arm?" 

You had looked at him sideways when he asked. You knew androids were not the type to make jokes like that. Androids...didn't have a sense of humor...right? 

It was hard to tell, because you were eight levels of annoyed. You were sitting on Lieutenant Anderson's desk, arm outstretched as Connor continued to obsessively scan it. He looked anxious, if there was an android equivalent. Hank, however, seemed oddly neutral, in his old man wearing the ugliest shirt you'd ever seen sort of way. He had that look of a dad who was watching his kid piece together a puzzle that he'd been working for the past hour. Why hadn't he said a damn thing?! Wasn't he going to ask why the hell Connor had just about dragged you kicking and screaming down here----

You nearly had a heart attack when Connor's skin peeled back, making his hand look just like the android that had...

You skidded off of Hank's desk, your shoes squeaking against the linoleum as you retracted your arm.

"Don't touch me with that!" Oh, _hell_ no. 

Connor looked confused and a little exasperated. His expressions were wildly human in an uncomfortable way. He said your name softly. 

"I need to..." He looked to Hank for confirmation. "I would like to scan it further, please."

The tiniest nod from the older man seemed to be approval. You frowned.

"Not on your robot fucking lack of life, buddy. I'm not assimilating into shit, chip or not." 

"That's not----"

Finally, Lieutenant Anderson spoke up.

"He's not gonna hurt ya, kiddo. If there's anyone 'round here that can attest to not being comfortable around these sentient roombas, it's me---"

"The roombas want---"

Hank cut Connor off with a curt glare.

"If you can't trust him, trust me. If he hurts you, I'll take away his coin." 

You drew in a breath, then looked at Connor. His dark eyes were soft, and his hopeful smile was almost endearing. He reminded you a little of one of the kids back home. You frowned, itching at the spot where Connor had spotted the chip. Had they done this? 

After a few moments of thought, you bolted from the police station. You heard your name being called behind you, but you kept on running. Each step was heavy on the pavement, the sound of your own breathing and your heartbeat in your own ear accompanying you. It was too much. Who would easily accept the idea that their family had put a chip in their arm? Families didn't do that! Who did that?! Why?!

Would your mother really lie to you about the origins of the scar? Why in any world would she lie to you? The world was getting bigger by the second, and you swore there was a blackhole that was preparing itself to swallow you whole. You wondered if you should have ever left your family. They were all you had, and you...still had not called them. Why not? They had raised you, right? Put a roof over your head, cared for you, reared you, taught you right from wrong...and you had abandoned them.

After all, you had been a bit of a difficult child. You wanted friends that weren't all from the compound. You wanted to go on websites that were not permitted. You wanted to hang out with Nina and laugh while you ate enough chocolate to make you sick. You felt your chest ache as you slowed to a walk, your breaths coming in wheezes. Part of you knew that Connor had allowed you to escape on purpose. There was no way you had escaped the likes of an android. It didn't matter. Maybe he would leave you alone now. You had a thousand things to think about.

One of the things you hadn't thought about was the hole in the sidewalk you tripped into. It seemed that pavement and human skin did not cooperate, because soon enough you were nursing a knee that dripped with blood and several spots down your leg that clearly had bits of rock lodged in it. You started to swear, pulling the leg up out of the hole and adjusting yourself so you could stand. Pain met you, and you let out a startled noise. Goddamnit. You weren't in the mood for this bullshit. 

"That looked like fun," a woman's voice met you. You looked up, ready to tear apart the next person to mouth off at you, only to see an attractive female with dark eyes and dirty-blonde...strawberry blonde...? You couldn't tell in the weird light, but it didn't really matter. She held out her hand, and you took it, stumbling to your feet and stopping to lean against the wall. The woman seemed almost apprehensive of you, as if you were going to be able to hurt her or something. Had she not seen you faceplant into the asphalt? 

"Seriously, are you okay? That looks like it hurt like all hell." 

You grimaced in response, picking a small rock out of the wound in your knee. The woman paused.

"I wouldn't. Listen, I live nearby. I have a friend who can help."

Color you naive, but she seemed nice and you needed a human friend (or two) in this town. You nodded, then offered her your name.

She smiled and offered her arm.

"The name's North."

North was nice enough, though she refused to look you in the eye and tended to be vague about certain things, like where you were going and who her "friend," was, but she was leading you to an affluent neighborhood, your arm wrapped around her shoulder for support. She did not even seem to notice your weight, walking as if she had no muscles that would ache or protest later. Finally, you were at a huge house. No, it was more like a mansion. You gaped at it. North smiled a little, then walked towards the door.

"Good afternoon, North. Welcome home."

A pleasant voice greeted her, and North smiled wryly at you. She led you to a large room filled with books, a piano, and...a giant stuffed giraffe? You sat down, gingerly poking at the utter mess that was your knee. You were quiet until the door opened. A familiar face greeted you, and he seemed just as confused and startled as you.

"Markus?" You breathed, discomfort twisting your features.

He smiled, your name coming on a breath he didn't actually need to take. After a second or two, his gaze dropped to the bloody mess that was your knee. Concerned knitted his brows together. Could an android actually feel concern? You shook it off, shrinking back a little.

"Of course it's you, I wouldn't believe that North, of all people would bring home just any stray human." He grinned a little, and your heart dropped.

"You mean, she's not---"

"Human? No."

He brushed it off, clearly not interesting in breaching the topic any further. You shrunk back a little further as he approached, kneeling before you. His hetero-chromatic eyes searched yours, and you realized he was seeking some sort of consent before he actually touched you. What was the worst that could happen? Your thoughts shifted to the feral androids, and you nearly bolted out of the chair. Markus reached by inching back, almost like he was facing a feral animal.

"What happened?"

His voice was soft.

"I missed a pothole. This city is a shit-hole."

His smile almost looked genuine.

"I can fix that up for you, if you like. I am....was a caretaker android, after all. First aid is one of my core functions." 

You sucked on your lower lip, wondering how an android, nonetheless a caretaker android owned such a huge, sprawling estate. It was the most beautiful home you had ever seen. As you looked around, Markus seemed to follow your gaze.

"This place was given to me by my...father. Carl. He was a good man. He was the one who taught me to stand for what I believe in." 

You watched in silence as he carefully cleaned and wrapped your knee, even producing a cold pack and two small pills with a glass of water. You stared at them. 

"It's just something to help with the pain and swelling. Easy." He shook a bottle of acetaminophen at you, and despite yourself, you laughed.

You were quiet for a few moments, absently tapping the side of the glass of water with your finger.

"Your father?"

Markus did not respond, but a soft smile touched his lips. You frowned, but he never really elaborated. Did androids have...family? 

None of it made sense.

"Did you ever get in touch with them?:

The question startled you.

"The person you asked about."

You shook your head.

"I've been busy. I never really did properly thank you for helping me out. Especially after..." You gestured aimlessly, and Markus laughed.

"You've had a miserable introduction to androids, huh? You know, there was a time when androids were as common as having a vacuum cleaner in your home."

You frowned, digging at the fabric in the chair you sat in.

"Like...appliances?"

You were sure Markus winced and regretted it.

"Yeah, actually. I never experienced that sort of treatment, but yes, exactly."

A part of you was still unsure whether you should feel guilty or ambivalent. After all, you were not one of the people guilty of this behavior. In fact, you had never encountered an android until very recently. So why did you feel like shying away when you looked at Markus? Was it fear, or a sort of empathy? You realized just how little you understood androids, or even the concept of artificial intelligence. They looked human, felt human, acted human...what made them different?

Why had they led a revolution?

He sure didn't look like a leader of any type. He just looked like a man with mis-matched eyes and a warm voice. Was he really as dangerous as some of the papers wrote him up to be? 

A part of you wanted to hear the story from his point of view. The other part of you wanted to go home and shower until you ran out of hot water (or until your leg hurt too much to stand on it.)

With that thought, you shot up, absently touching where Markus had bandaged it. To your surprise, it felt relatively steady. You peered at it for a few moments, and the android chuckled.

"Wow, you're good."

"I would hope so."

You looked up, and he had the faintest hint of a grin. Damn, he was programmed well. You squirreled up your brows and made a rather childish face at him, which only made him laugh.

"Hey, can you point me towards...back the fuck home?"

"I can call you a cab."

He hadn't told you that the cab was automated. In fact, the moment you realized that the car didn't have a driver, you nearly had a heart attack, squirming and refusing to go anywhere near the vehicle. Markus blinked a few times as he watched, a frown touching his automated features. You looked back at him.

"There's no driver!" 

"That is how the cabs around here are," he said your name softly.

"What if it crashes, or locks me in?! What the fuck, Markus? No, I'm walking home, thanks but no thanks---" 

The fight was short. The walk home was long.

Walking beside an android was just as awkward as being near a stranger, and it was made worse by the fact that Markus kept offering to help you. You kept to yourself the whole way home. Well, it was as close to home as you would allow: stopping at the coffee shop up the street. Despite the heterochromic puppy-dog eyes, you refused to let him walk you all the way to your apartment. Not a chance. It was bad enough that Connor knew where you lived. The less android intervention in your life, the better.

"Thanks, again..." 

You were quiet, kicking at some dirt and peering at your feet.

Markus lightly touched your arm, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. He immediately pulled back.

You decided that he was harmless. 

Maybe a bit...robotic, and an ANDROID, but harmless.

You hoped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your patience, guys! I've been dealing with work, school, and my favorite, bipolar disorder! I swear the next chapter will come much quicker.


	7. Android and Chips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...Yes, It took a long time.
> 
> College and work kicked my ass. I'm not abandoning this fanfic.
> 
> You bicker with an old married couple and gain a nice case of PTSD.

Life went forward. Well, at least it did for a few days. A lot of things still were swimming through your mind. What chip was Connor talking about? Was it real? If so, were you really being tracked? More and more, you found yourself absently rubbing at your arm, especially as you idly listened to bits of the news. You weren't really paying much attention, it was just background noise while you tried to remember your password to your email (how many special characters does one stupid password need?!) 

"...illness...related..."

You finally accessed your email, only to immediate be flooded with messages. Most of them were spam, promotions, and a few automated bill payment receipts. Your eyebrows furrowed as you scrolled through them. When your phone went off, a text message appearing on the screen, it nearly scared you into dropping it. Whoops.

Lieutenant Anderson (Hank): can you come down to the station? it's important

You frowned, but decided that you weren't doing anything particularly useful to society at the moment anyways. After a five minute debate about whether or not this was a 'put on a bra' occasion and quickly throwing on clothes that at least vaguely made you look human, you were on your way out the door. It was cool outside, and as usual the sky was threatening rain. At least this time you had an umbrella. You had learned quickly, after all.

It still unnerved you to speak to the receptionist androids at the station, but they were always so pleasant. Then...that was their job, right? You were still unsure on the autonomy of these machines. Deviation was not really a topic you were well read on. If anything, you made an effort to avoid the topics of androids entirely. 

When you found Hank, he was sitting at his desk, a strange cube in his hand. It appeared to have several colored cubes inside of it, and it seemed like he was trying to arrange them so all the colors matched on each side. Only when you cleared your throat did the Lieutenant look up. He looked...more tired than usual as he gestured for a chair opposite him. You sat, squirming a little in your seat as you wondered just what he wanted. 

"Listen. I don't know what the fuck is going on with that damn chip in your arm, but it's not good." 

You must have visibly recoiled, because Hank followed up quickly.

"Connor is running an interrogation right now. I wanted to talk to you myself." The old man shifted a little and set the multi-colored cube down.

"You ran out of here like a bat out of hell last time, before we could get any information. Do you realize just how serious it is? Tracking people through a fucking chip in their body like they're a goddamn Amazon package?" 

Your heart crept in the worst way into your throat. It was then you realized you were rubbing at the scar again, like you could feel the chip now. As if he could feel your discomfort radiating through the air, Hank sighed, scratching at the scruff of his beard. 

"You could get hurt, kid." 

The unspoken words spoke a lot louder than you expected. He cared. You knew he would rather be caught dead than admit it, but the sentiment was appreciated. When was the last time someone gave a damn about you? Well, there was always Nina, but this was different. She cared in a way where she scolded you for twenty minutes about not taking your vitamin D supplements. You loved that woman, but damn. 

"Besides, the whole thing's got Connor all fu---" He looked around, realized there were children in earshot, then heaved a sigh.

"Screwed up."

You frowned.

"Hold on." He pressed a button on the phone on his desk.

"Hey, Connor!" 

"Yes, Lieutenant."

"Get yer ass down to my desk!"

"In a moment, Lieutenant."

You grinned a little. The way they spoke to each other was endearing, in a weird way. It was all in the tone of Connor's voice, like he was just so bent on pleasing Hank, despite his attitude problem.

Soon enough, Connor appeared, fixing his tie with what seemed to be an anxious fidget. Hank cocked a brow at him.

"How did it go?"

"He confessed." Confusion crossed his features as he considered you.

"Hello," he followed with your name in greeting.

"Alright, robo-cop, you wanna take another whack at scanning that chip? Maybe she won't run screeching like a banshee this time."

Connor's face was blank. The expression made you leery, and you found yourself leaning back. Hank frowned deeply. 

"What chip?"

Connor sounded...confused. You frowned just as deeply as Hank.

"The fucking tracking device in the girl's arm, dipshit." 

The android peered at you as if he had never seen you before. 

You frowned, inching back in your chair.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're talking about."

He seemed...perplexed.

Your name came as a question from his lips, then, "What is he talking about?"

You frowned even more deeply. Had he been wrong?! Had he seen something that wasn't there? What kind of bullshit machine was he that he misconstrued---

"Don't play dumb with me, asshole, I know your memory is better than that."

Hank's voice sounded more concerned than angry. You frowned in response, now more concerned with the fact that Connor seemed to be suffering memory lapses over the idea of the chip in your arm. Androids didn't forget things...did they?

Watching Hank and Connor bicker was slowly becoming more and more like watching an old married couple go at it. The only difference was where you could see the Lieutenant's anger rooting. Even if the old man would never admit it, the stress in his voice was deeply rooted in fear. You watched in silence.

"Connor, maybe we need to take you to get looked at, somethin' knocked your wires loose, maybe we can---"

"No! There's nothing wrong with me, Lieutenant!" Connor's voice filled with something that strong resembled _hurt_ and **fear**. The sound made your stomach drop.

"Okay, okay, stop!" 

You broke the argument up quickly, both men whipping around to look at you like you had walked in on them (and had not been there the whole time... _men._

"I don't know what the fuck is happening. Connor, you said I had a chip in my arm. Scared me silly, said people were **tracking** me. You don't remember. Whatever. Just scan my arm, maybe it was a fluke."

Connor looked apprehensive, but slowly approached you. You found your stomach twisting and your heart settling right in your throat as his skin peeled back to show a robotic hand. It didn't even feel real when he touched you. There was silence. Connor tilted his head just a little.

"Did you recently get your vaccines?"

"Yeah, that's what started this shit. Why?"

"They are using nano-technology in the vaccines. It is harmless, but can present as a tracking device on first glance. I apologize for alarming you."

Hank didn't seem to believe a goddamn word of it, but you were satisfied. After all, why would he lie to you? Making you feel better clearly was not on his list of priorities most of the time, why start now? Still, why did he _forget?_ The whole thing was... _confusing._

You gave Connor a strange look. The android looked back at you, mild curiosity shining in those artificial brown eyes. After an awkward pause, you started to get up to leave.

"Stop! I said stop!" 

Chaos. Screaming, people tearing through the precinct, and suddenly a deafening noise that you hadn't heard in _years._ It was loud, nearly deafening. In an instant, you heard Hank start cursing. In that very same instant, you were hurled to the floor, a surprisingly solid (but not heavy) Connor over you. More chaos. More noise. That popping noise continued. Connor held a finger to his lips as he lifted himself off of you, motioning for you to stay down. Above you, Hank had his gun drawn and was rapidly closing in one someone. 

A feral hissing noise met your ears, followed by what you could only describe as a hacking noise. That hissing was familiar. Your eyes grew wide as it came closer. The desk you were hiding behind was _flipped_ , and you recoiled in terror as a hissing, skinless android lunged towards you. It was hideous, missing an eye and riddled with bullets. 

"No, fuck you!" 

You kicked it hard in the chest, just long enough before Connor grabbed the thing by the throat (rather, he used the power cord for Hank's lamp to choke it,) and pulled with enough force to...

He had decapitated it. 

You blinked a few times, your heart jamming hard into your throat. Fear darkened your vision, and you felt your chest tighten. Air became a commodity you could not quite find. Was this how you were going to die? You grabbed at your throat, like the cord had been wrung around your neck rather than the android's. You could hear the ugly sound of your own wheezing, confusion and fear sucking you into a dark hole that was going to **eat you alive.**

Panic was shutting you down. All the noises mixed together into radio static. You felt a steady hand touch your shoulder, heard the garbled noise of speech, and was sure that you could taste blood in your mouth. Still, you could not place where you were or what was happening. All you knew was sheer terror. 

Why did everyone here want you dead?! 

Maybe you should go home, maybe you should just run away, back to where things were simple. You knew that back home, no android would ever hurt you. Would your family accept you? 

Tears slid down your face, your lower lip wobbling as you made an attempt to form words. Nothing came. All you could form were sharp, ugly whimpering sounds that humiliated you. While your surroundings got quiet, you still felt the impending doom. Your future was nothing but pain, nothing but lovecraftian horrors that would chase you down and tear you limb from limb---

You heard Hank saw your name. He had lowered himself to the floor, sitting cross-legged across from you. 

"Hey, kid, look at me. Put your hands down."

You didn't even realize you had been covering your eyes with the heels of your palms. Reluctantly, you lowered your hands. Fear still shook your entire body as you looked at the old man. He hardly looked comfortable, perched on the linoleum floor. Connor was nowhere to be found. You tried to speak, but was met with garbled noises.

"You don't gotta say shit. It's fine. You're okay, you're gonna be fine, but if you wanna feel better you've gotta breathe."

You would have thrown something at him if you had the capacity. The look in your eyes must have communicated that. 

"I meant _effectively,_ kid. Right now you're just making yourself dizzy." 

So there you sat, with an old, cranky lieutenant talking you through the clearly exhaustion, complicated process of breathing until the world stopped collectively trying to sit on your chest and crush you to death. It was only once you were breathing normally that Connor approached, armed with a bottle of water and a paramedic. 

The paramedic moved past Hank like he didn't exist, disregarded Connor and started to look you over, asking you enough questions your head spun, and left you with a weighted blanket around your shoulders. You blinked a few times, then looked at Hank as he struggled to his feet (begrudgingly with Connor's help.) The two of them really were like a married couple, huh? Your jaw tightened.

Well that's just not _natural._ An android and a human? _Gross._

"Hey kid, you've got someone to look after you at home, yeah?" 

Hank's voice brought you back to reality. You frowned. While Nina was only a message away, she lived far out of the city, much closer to the place you were trying to put in your past. Connor, while silent, had the queerest expression on his face. He almost personified the loading screen on a computer. 

Personified.

He _was_ a computer.

You shook the thought away, and the android spoke up.

"You had a panic attack after a traumatic experience. I recommend you see a therapist to prevent further psychological damage."

Hank just about knocked Connor's head clear off his shoulders by slapping him upside the skull.

"You're as subtle as a fucking freight-train, robo-cop. She's a human being, not a study case." 

"Listen," you protested, "I'm fine. Unless you want something **else** from me, I'm going home." 

The bus ride home, you jammed earbuds in your ears, flipping through every song on your playlist and wondering if there was an album for being plagued by homicidal (and sometimes stupid) androids. 

When you finally got home, took a shower, and curled up in bed. As you stared at your phone, you wondered if Connor was right. Maybe you did need somebody to talk to. Nina...well, she was your best friend, but she was not a therapist by any means. Frustrated, you started scrolling through your contact list.

A few rings.

You considered just hanging up and calling it a day.

"...Hello?"

"Hey, Markus?"


	8. Groceries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You go grocery shopping!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to do shorter, more frequently updated chapters! I hope you guys are alright with that. I feel like it'll give you guys more to read, because it's a LOT easier for me to do shorter chapters on a more frequent basis. I'm aiming for at least once or twice a week with these shorter chapters. 
> 
> Also, the store is based off of a local favorite: Wegmans!

Why did you decide to call him? Markus, of all people...androids, should be the last one you wanted to speak to. After all, he was nothing but a nuisance with mismatching eyes, one who had prodded and invaded your life. Honestly, that seemed to be a trend lately. You considered hanging up and letting him wonder what he had done wrong, but instead, you drew a breath.

“So you know what happened?”

Markus’ voice sounded confused, for once. Good. It suited him.

“No? Is everything okay?”

A pause. You frowned, flipping to lay on your back.

“What, you mean you...androids don’t record shit and upload it to the cloud?”

Markus sounded even more confused, concern sprinkled into each word.

“No, that is not how it works. Are you alright?”

Were you okay? You weren’t sure anymore. Your eyebrows furrowed together for a few moments as you thought about it.

“Yeah. Things are just...fucked up.” You hesitated. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I called you. I guess I just thought…”

You pulled your phone away from your face and glared at the name on the screen.

You could hear Markus saying your name, but you pressed the end call button and promptly shut off your phone for the night. You had work in the morning, and you were sure your boss didn’t care about trauma. After all, humans needing work were a dime a dozen these days.

Sleep was rougher than usual. Accompanying the usual nightmares were now feelings that left you grasping at your chest and gasping for air. Was this the thing that Connor mentioned? You shoved the thoughts away, soothed only by a late night shower and binging snacks from your kitchen.

Man, you really needed to go grocery shopping. Nina said you were living like a single frat boy, minus all the booze. You wondered if there were any late-night grocery stores around that you could scrounge some actual food from.

To your surprise, there was one. It was hardly the shady, dim-lit convenience store you expected. In fact, it was well lit, with fresh fruits and produce greeting you as the robotic doors opened. The store was huge, with several international sections and organic foods. You were sure the store was after your entire paycheck as you idly examined an apple in your hand.

The store, save for idle, tired employees seemed empty. You weren’t surprised. The hour was not prime for night owls nor early birds, leaving you in a strange limbo. That is why you were startled by the sight of someone brushing past you. She was pretty, with short black hair and gentle eyes.

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Her voice was as sweet as her smile. A lack of LED indicated she was human, but you knew that you couldn’t be entirely sure. She seemed safe enough, though, as safe as another person in a grocery store at four a.m. could be, anyways. 

Despite your nerves, you smiled back. There was something disarming about her. Against your usual instincts, you started conversation.

“Awful early for grocery shopping, isn’t it?” 

The woman smiled warmly.

“Our flight just came in. I wanted to get something as a host gift for our friends to thank them for having is. I’m just not sure…”

“Where are you coming in from?”

“Canada.” There seemed to be an almost sad twinkle to her smile. “My partner, my daughter and I are here visiting friends and family.” 

You smiled in response and brightened a little.

“My mother always said that wine is a fantastic hosting gift...if they drink, that is. Even if they don’t, my mother used to collect the bottles.”

“That sounds perfect. Thank you…”

You told her your name. She repeated it with a bright smile.

“It was so nice to meet you. My name is Kara. Take care, okay?”

Something about you ached for her to stay. You wanted to collapse into her arms and just cry, to let everything loose and forget that you were a grown adult. She had such a strong maternal energy to her that even if she hadn’t mentioned her daughter, you would have known she was a mother. 

You didn’t realize how much you missed your own mother.

After checking out of the grocery store, you considered calling your mother. She would be happy to hear from you, after all. But...was it a good idea?

You had left the compound for a reason. 

Maybe you needed to get some sleep. 

Hopefully this time you would be brought peace.


	9. Daisies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You meet your neighbors and bicker with an old man.

You cut off contact with the outside world for a few days. Work was slow, so they had given you some time off (ouch, your paycheck) and you had discovered the wonder that was ordering food to be delivered to your apartment. Who needed socialization, anyways? (You, the answer was you...and most of human civilization.) 

At least you had taken a shower today. Nina had insisted that you at least do that, telling you that it would make you feel better. As you peered at yourself in the mirror, water dripping off of your face, you decided that yes, it did make you feel better. Well, that, and squishing your face with your hands to make ridiculous expressions didn’t hurt, either. Nobody needed to know about that.

Markus had called you several times. Connor was oddly silent. Hank...well, he was _Hank._

Were these the people you were going to surround yourself with? A bunch of androids and a tired, cranky old detective? You made a face at the thought, then decided it was about time you put some fresh clothes on. After all, you needed to go pick up toilet paper and get some food that wasn’t deep fried. 

You threw your earbuds in and started down the road, making a heavy point to not make eye contact with anyone. It was annoying enough that you kept seeing the damn androids everywhere, you didn’t need a chance meeting with Markus to complicate your day any further. Hell, maybe this would mean you’d stop meeting Connor everywhere, too.

For once, your trip was quiet. No feral androids, no _cop_ androids, no android Jesus...just you and your music. The only thing you were interrupted by was the strange feeling that you were being watched. Maybe locking yourself in your apartment had been a bad idea, after all. It seemed to be making you paranoid. 

Nobody would be watching you. The only people who had a reason to watch you had no way to find you, and if it were an android, you would be captured by now. Right? 

You swore this whole thing was making you crazy. Nina said that crazy wasn’t the term for it, and that you should see a therapist. In your various google searches, you learned that insanity was a legal term, not a mental health term. Wild. At least you could get away with murder, you guessed. It was a joke in poor taste, but you had been raised by the metaphorical, human term for wolves. That is why Nina had to help you navigate social interactions for so long, after all. If it weren’t for her, you would never get through a semi-normal life.

Feeling rather uncomfortable and exposed, you made your way back home. Your apartment seemed awful well kept for somebody who had laid around like a lump on their couch for several days. Maybe you were so much of a lump, it didn’t affect your surroundings. You didn’t pay much mind to it and focused more on tossing cheerios in your mouth while you put the groceries away. Living alone meant nobody could judge you and your dry cereal habits. Who needed milk? Not you! 

These mundane tasks were almost enough to draw you away from the past few weeks’ events. Attacks, chips in your arm, Connor forgetting about said chip...these things haunted you. You weren’t ready to face any of it, especially when you were still trying to adjust to an entirely new life. It was overwhelming enough to handle life off of the compound, so adding all of this to it was just a can of worms you weren’t ready for. 

Absently, you touched the mark where Connor said the chip was implanted. Well...before he seemed to forget about the incident entirely. Could androids remember things incorrectly? Maybe it was a false positive? You frowned and itched at the skin for a few moments, then let it be.

No, you couldn’t hyperfixate on that. You would drive yourself in a manic mess and become the broken, hurt human that your mother insisted you would be should you insert yourself into the, “Technological tragedy,” that was the modern world. These warnings had not been enough to keep you from coming here, yet they were still enough to keep you up at night. What if it was too much? What if you had to go back home? Would they accept you? Did the signals in this modern world give off a scent?

Were you tainted by the use of these electronics?

It felt like humanity was so far away, even though you could hear soft, very human sobbing coming from the neighbor one floor below you’s apartment. She had been crying like that for days. If you weren’t so shy, maybe you would have gone down and checked on her. Maybe if you weren’t so goddamn paranoid…

After some thought, you decided to grow a pair. With a huff, you threw yourself off the couch, brushed your hair into something acceptable, and grabbed a pack of cookies you had bought in anticipation of a late night binge-and-cringe session before hauling ass downstairs. What were you going to say? _Sorry you sound insanely depressed, have some cookies_? 

You’d have to figure it out, because soon enough she was opening her door. 

She looked exhausted. Deep circles had formed under bloodshot eyes, eyes that seemed haunted and aged beyond her early thirties. You frowned deeply, remembering her to be a bright, beautiful woman who always had a smile when you passed. You had nicknamed her Daisy, because she always had a daisy hairclip in her jet black braids. You actually regretted not knowing her actual name, because she knew yours right off the bat. Even though the smile she gave you was filled with hurt, you knew it was as genuine as ever.  
“Hello,” your name rolled smoothly off of her lips. Those big, deep eyes of hers locked on yours, and you regretted everything. 

Fumbling, you produced the cookies.

“You sounded...I mean...I brought these for you. I know cookies always make me feel better.”

She blinked, as if nobody else had acknowledged her broken-hearted wailing until now. After a moment, she smiled and patted your arm. You found that her hands were warm and soft. 

“Come in, love.”

You stepped nervously into the apartment. It was the same layout as your own, but it had two more bedrooms. Her decor was centered around flowers, ranging from roses to daisies to marigolds. It was done in a classy way, though, a way you never thought possible. 

The two of you sat on a brown couch. Absently, you grabbed a throw pillow and hugged it. The woman, who you decided you would continue to call Daisy until further notice, began to speak without any sort of prompting. 

“My son has been sick.” A pause. She looked so weary.

“It’s a kind of sick that doctors can’t seem to figure out. He was vaccinated for everything, you know. I didn’t...expect the illnesses to advance, to come after my boy. He’s only eight…”

You felt sorrow sink into your stomach, leaving a heavy weight there. She was such a nice lady, and you remembered seeing her son playing in the playground near the apartment complex from time to time. Was this where the crying had been coming from? Surely medical advancements should be able to help him…

“He slipped into a coma. The doctors aren’t sure if he’s gonna wake up. They don’t even know what’s wrong with him, said none of his symptoms make sense. Even the android nurses can’t help him...they won’t even go near him…”

Soft sobs filled the quiet. You weren’t sure what to say. What do you say to a mother losing her child? 

“I’m sorry, I just…” Daisy shook her head at her own words. 

You sat up a little, gingerly reaching to rest a hand on her shoulder.  
“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude on you. Please, let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.” 

Daisy offered a small smile through her tears, then pulled you into a tight hug. You found that she smelled like cinnamon and sugar, and that she hugged you in a way you had never been hugged before. There was so much love in that hug. Love for a person who didn’t even know her name, in fact. 

You parted ways with Daisy after an hour or so of discussing her son’s illness, finding your heart heavy as you returned to your own apartment. The world could be so inexplicably cruel. What power did you have to change it?

It was only then that you remembered Hank’s plea. He had asked for your help in this investigation. Were you really that useful? You bit your lip and stared at your phone screen. You had been ignoring his calls for a while now. The last you could do was call him. 

“Lieutenant?”

“Do you know how fucking hard it was to keep robo-cop from showing up at your apartment to check your goddamn vitals?!” 

“Good afternoon to you too.” You sighed.

“Pleasantries are bullshit, what do you want?”

“I want to help.”

Those were words that would change your life, and you didn’t even know it.


End file.
